To my co-pilot

I am thirty-six years old. I’ve never been married, have zero kids and my career as a filmmaker has always been the primary focus of my entire life. I know, I should be farther along then, right? Nope, because I had to pick one of the most difficult careers to make a living at. But, whatever, I love the work and I’m digressing. With the exception of my family, my films have been my entire universe. That is, until I met someone.

My boyfriend.

He’s literally rocked my world and made me want to adjust my focus in a way no one ever has. Yes, he’s flawed just like everyone else (no one should enjoy leisure time that much!) but to paraphrase and butcher an amazing quote from the amazing film GOOD WILL HUNTING, ‘He isn’t perfect, I’m not perfect, no one is perfect, but what’s important is that we’re perfect for each other.’

I think we are. His birthday is tomorrow and I know he follows my blog so he’ll get this surprise in his email inbox as soon as I post it. Below is a poem I wrote, the first in probably twenty years, for my guy on his birthday:


First there was me daydreaming about the one,
then there was a funny one always with a beer in hand,
then a sweet best friend one,
one who opened my eyes and some who helped reintroduce LA,
handsome ones, crazy ones, hysterical ones, stupid ones,
angry ones, laid back ones, and one who actually tagged my dumpster,
one who I believe is in jail or was in the past,
ones who are forgettable,
one who should be in jail but probably never will be, sigh,
but all were fleeting, poof! where’d they go? who cares!
I kept searching…

And then there was THE ONE.

The one who I’ve said good night to practically every night
since we met,
the one who shares the love for a ten o-clock dinner time and a
nine-hour sleep schedule,
the one who tolerates my love for no outside clothes under
the covers,
the one whose love for closed blinds at noon is something I
the one whose been waiting for me to ask him my illogical question,
“baby, do you have a hair tie?”
the one who put hair ties in several of his pants pockets so he could
pull one out and say, “Here you go, sweetheart”
the one who continually surprises me,
the one who swells my heart, a heart I didn’t know could grow this big,
the one who steals my breath at random moments,
the one who has to force himself not to kiss me so as not to wake me up,
the one who thinks about life as a gift,
the one who is my gift,
the one who I’ve been patiently (did I mention I’m thirty-six) waiting for…

My love.

My Co-Pilot.


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